


Running to Home

by autumnleavessilverwinds



Series: error 404 series name not found [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bisexual GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Boys Kissing, Cracker Barrel, Fingering is a thing that happens, Food mentions, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, M/M, Making Out, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Outing, Queer Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Road Trips, Running Away, Sort Of, Trans GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), clothes come off this time around, deadnaming, fuck counter is six, not much of it though, softcore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28787037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnleavessilverwinds/pseuds/autumnleavessilverwinds
Summary: George and Dream finally escape from their crappy little town and make their escape.~Sequel to “That 2 AM Air Hit Different Tho”
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Series: error 404 series name not found [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105313
Comments: 2
Kudos: 86





	Running to Home

**Author's Note:**

> Now featuring transphobic parents, me thinking back to the plan I made when I packed the bags I had for four years (lol since eighth grade), and an actual smut scene! Whoo you guys are actually getting somewhat of a treat tonight. You’re also getting BBH and Sapnap, lol I couldn’t keep them away but they’re not part of the smut. (As if there’s much lol). 
> 
> Anyways, no one really demanded this but since some people found this relatable and I got inspired by my emo hours playlist that I check into when I feel like being angry and alone and it’s late at night. School doesn’t start until later tomorrow so I have time to stay up if I want and everyone’s settling down (which is nice lol the guy who hit me was having a meltdown earlier and trust me I’m sick of it; still, he’s got an excuse so I can’t really blame him for the meltdowns, but I’m still not sure I can forget what happened just yet)
> 
> If the smut is shit…sorry, ha never written stuff like that before and I’m going off of some other fics on this site. If you looking for BDSM, you won’t get any of that, sorry. Not into that thing, and it gives me non-con vibes anyways due to growing up in a household with a CSA survivor. Area’s got a lot of bad stuff, too, which is why I can’t sit on my roof. Anyways, Dream n George have said they’re okay with this kind of stuff and they read it, so I don’t care if this gets read. If that does happen, though, someone give your boys a hug touch starvation is bad.
> 
> lol, let’s fucking jump into this.

Dream hated his job.

Standing at the register, he yawned and slid a hand over his face before quickly wrapping up for the first time in what felt like years. _One more night, Dream,_ he mused, glancing down at the fresh pink scars on his wrist. He’d scratched himself until he was bleeding in the midst of an anxiety attack the other night, hadn’t gotten quite back to himself yet. Still, they had a lot of driving to do.

As he cleaned up, quietly humming “One Day More” from the _Les Mis_ musical with Hugh Jackman, Eddie Redmayne, and Anne Hathaway (listed, in his opinion, from best singers to last; Hathaway had been brilliant but he could never remember poor Eponine’s actress’ name and she’d been amazing, too). Once upon a time, when things were happier and he had yet to come out to even himself, he and Sapnap would stand atop the theatre room’s platforms and belt out Marius and Enjolras’ lyrics at the top of their lungs while Bad joined in on the chorus. Both of them were long gone from their town, getting out while they could to go live in their house in Los Angeles with a ton of other people.

Smiling to himself as he mopped the floors, Dream thought about it.

Los Angeles. He and George were going to Los Angeles. They’d be _free_. Free from everything and everyone, even if only just for a little while. Even better, they wouldn’t be alone. They’d talked it over—George had cried when he got to talk to Sapnap and Bad, his parents had grounded him from social media when he came out, cutting him off from them almost permanently. Over the camera, Bad had sobbed and Dream would be lying if he said he hadn’t shed a few tears. Sapnap cried, too, he just wouldn’t admit it, the idiot. George and Dream would be moving in with Bad and Sapnap and their roommates.

That had been planned a few months ago, and they’d picked a date—July 16th.

In the early morning hours, George’s sister would help him get his boxes out of the house and too Dream’s car, and George would use the window without a screen to slide down the roof to the garden grass with his other bags. Two medium cardboard boxes, two backpacks, and his pillow. That was everything George had with him.

Still, humming along to the lyrics in his head, Dream took a breath and smiled even past the rank smell of disinfectant. “Let Her Go” by Passenger came on over the shop radio, and he started signing along softly, half-dancing with the broom.

No more.

No more judgmental stares. No more hateful looks from George’s parents. No more hiding their relationship, they could be happy and _free_ and _home_ _home, home, they were going to be going home._ No more would they have to be alone. No more would they be forced to hide who they were, keep everything clamped down and hidden away.

Smiling, Dream let out a soft laugh and looked up at the tiled ceiling. He’d turned in his notice two weeks before, and his last coworker had said “good riddance” when she left for the back room. He was free. He and George both. No more would Felicity have to exist in George’s parents’ mind, he was George now and forever and that was it.

He took a breath, tilted his head back and imagined what the road trip would be like. Thirty-six hours on the road, twenty-five hundred miles between them and freedom for sure. They were adults, no one could touch them. As soon as they crossed that border, they’d be free for good. No one could touch them.

No one could touch them.

They’d be free.

The thought made him want to cheer. In his chest, his heart pounded, and he glanced at the clock as the shift finally came to an end. So, he wrapped up, closed down the station, and left for his car, leaving the keys in the breakroom. Holding his employee card, Dream stared down at it for a moment. His eyes looked dead in the picture, no smile on his freckled face.

Leaning against his car as it gassed up, watching his breath fog up in the air and the bright lights from the gas station cover above his head, Dream let out a long, cathartic laugh. He needed it, closing his eyes and clutching his card to his chest. His head pressed against the Explorer behind him, and he smiled again as the gas finally stopped pumping. Paying, he put the pump back and grabbed his card, jumped into the driver’s seat and pulled out his phone before looking back behind him. His stuff was thrown in the back, where they’d be putting George’s stuff. In the middle seat, there was a bed set up just in case George wanted to nap. Or maybe if Dream wanted to nap.

Sure, his car wasn’t crappy, but it wasn’t the best. Chipped, mud-splattered grey paint. Sometimes he couldn’t get the sunroof to fit back and he’d pinched his fingers time and time again. On occasion, the radio would turn itself all the way up when he started the car. One of the handles didn’t work right to open the back. Still, he could deal with it.

**Gogy of my Dreams (Sis Phone)**

**Just let me know when you need**

**to come and pick me up, okay b?**

**Np**

**Should we have a secret code?**

_Read 3:14 pm_

Snorting to himself, Dream shook his head and texted, **Lilacs.**

For a few moments, George’s sister didn’t reply, and Dream waited until she had said they would be ready by the time he got there to start driving away. Setting his phone in the cup holder, he took a breath and pulled onto the right streets. Part of him wanted to scream to save gas, but he’d kept the miles down on the Explorer and of course it wasn’t that high anyways. It was pretty good and would be for their trip. Besides, worse came to worse…he could ask Sapnap to drive and pick them up.

As George’s two-story house came into view, Dream carefully pulled out of view of the main windows and texted that he was there, then turned the car off and slipped out. Now, all they had to do was move.

He could be patient.

<error 404 transition.exe not found>

“I hope you know that we love you, Felicity.” George watched his mom talk from his bed, staring down at the sheets with his cheeks flaming from shame. As she finished up her lecture on why they had taken his phone from him yet again (for some stupid reason, they thought he was sending inappropriate pictures to one of the jocks he’d known in college; that was stupid, he didn’t even send those to _Dream_ and Dream had, in fact, seen him much closer than nude than any other person outside his family had), he kept counting down the minutes until Dream was there. In the street outside, he heard what sounded like Dream’s car. But then, every car sounded like Dream’s. “Unfortunately, though, we’re very disappointed in you.”

With that, his mom left the room, and he took a breath before closing his eyes.

Counting steps, he waited until they’d faded and then got up, moving around quietly. Bending down, he pulled his bags from underneath the bed, ignored the cardboard sign he’d scribbled on when he’d first thought they’d kick him out. It’d been a while since he’d seen that, he thought for sure he’d thrown it away.

Downstairs, Emma had the boxes ready and prepped, and he laid back on his bed to wait. Considering the time, neither of his parents would be coming backstairs. It was just him, the squeaky ceiling fan, and then the window without the screen blocking him from freedom. As he thought about it, his heart pounded in his chest. He’d been at his grandparents’ not too long ago, been sitting on their rocking couch petting their cat, when his grandmother had said she never wanted to hear him speaking bad about his parents. According to her, they only cared for him and hadn’t done anything bad to him. The first thought was _sure, never. Except for the fact that they outed me and then forced me back into the closet because they weren’t happy with what they found in there._

Sighing, he traced the cracks in the ceiling, thought about what he was bringing with him. Some of them were stupid things, little model animals—horses and lions and the like—that he’d been collecting since he was a little kid. He and Emma used to play with them all the time. As he’d gotten older, he began using them for photography and the like. So, maybe it wasn’t _stupid_ that he was bringing them, and they weren’t all that heavy. He had some of his books, the documents that he needed for legal stuff, his card (one in an account separate from his parents’, he’d been sneaking money into it from his photography side job for months even before Dream suggested bolting as an option). All his IDs and everything else he needed.

Closing his eyes, he blinked a few more times and then smiled again. Dream. Dream was…everything he needed, and more. Not in a bad way—he didn’t think Dream _could_ manipulate him if he tried. Not even close, and they both knew this. Dream had waited for him, very patiently. Both of them held their boundaries—especially once Dream had realized he wasn’t exactly straight but he wasn’t the same as—

Downstairs, he heard Emma shout something as what was _definitely_ Dream’s Explorer pulling into the street they lived on. Getting up, George pulled the curtains open and looked out. A grin crossed his face, and he dragged his bags and pillow onto the bed. As Emma left, the lights in the living room turned off, and he took a breath before pulling the window open as quietly as possible. He glanced back at his room, unsure when he’d see it again, and then hefted his bags out onto the roof shingles before slowly standing up and inching his way to the edge. Thankfully, he’d had the idea to tie the pillow he was bringing with him to the bags instead of trying to keep it loose. He pulled the window shut behind him and looked down at Emma where she was handing boxes to Dream.

Slowly, George threw his backpacks into the grass, then grabbed the edge of the roof and dangled over it for a moment, dropping down once he was safe. “Come here.” Emma said, and as she and George picked up his bags she reached up to brush his hair away from his forehead. Leaning in, she kissed his forehead. “I’ll close your window the rest of the way and spray down your room. Stay safe, baby boy. I love you.”

Smiling, George hugged her and said, “I love you, too.” They took his bags to Dream’s car, and Dream kissed him gently. Looking back, he said, “I’ll text you when we get there, okay?”

Nodding, she smiled at him wistfully. Then, she looked at Dream. Her eyes sharpened, and she added, “If you hurt my brother, I’m castrating you with a pair of garden shears, and you’re losing your teeth and nails. With pliers. Understand?”

“Emma!”

Swallowing, Dream stared at her and nodded, and then put George’s bags in the back of the Explorer. He turned to George and said, “You ready?”

Looking around, George took in the street around him. He could see their neighbors’ houses, paved pale blue in the moonlight. Took in the stars above his head and then the smell of freshly watered, cut grass. A shuddery breath escaped him, but at the same time…that was what he needed. He needed to leave. He needed this. Turning to Dream, he nodded and smiled. “I’m ready.”

“Good luck, both of you.” Emma said, touching their shoulders. Moving, Dream let George into the car and George smiled at him, hugged Emma again, and then got into the car. Shutting the door, he let out another breath as the lights flickered off for a moment. Dream entered on the driver’s side, and George waved goodbye to Emma as the lights shut off and they drove away.

Pulling out his phone, Dream handed it to George. “Just click play. I thought this would be a fitting song to start out with.” Smiling, George met his gaze and paused as piano began to fill his ears.

_“Just a small-town girl,_

_Living in a lonely world._

_She took the midnight train_

_Going anywhere.”_

“You didn’t.” Laughing, George smiled and looked at Dream as they hit the highway. His heart threatened to pound out of his throat, and he couldn’t believe he was doing this. _He was doing this,_ he was _leaving._ Outside, a sign signaled that they were leaving their little town, and he swallowed again. Dream shifted, and George looked down to see that he was holding his hand out across the center console.

Locking their fingers, George met his gaze, took a few breaths, and then looked ahead at the road.

<error 404 transition.exe not found>

_Note to all who came for everything but the smut, or those who wish to avoid it: this is where it comes into play lol. Skip if you want, I don’t care._

<error 404 transition.exe not found>

They didn’t stop driving at Dream’s insistence until about six o’clock the next day, when they checked into some motel somewhere in Texas.

Of course, it was actually George who got them to _finally_ stop, insisting that he didn’t want to sleep in the car. As they set their overnight bags down on the beds, after checking for any hidden cameras, George mused, “Besides, we can have some fun. Can’t we?”

“Your sister threatened to castrate me, George. With garden shears.” Dream replied, slumping down on the bed next to him with a loud groan. “Although that sounds _fun_ , if we’re thinking on the right track.”

Leaning down, George slid his hand along Dream’s arm from his fingertips to his shoulder, earning him a slight shudder. Grinning, he leaned in and mused, “Well, you seemed _so eager_ for sex the last time we really had any alone time…when we weren’t planning anything.” He started kissing Dream’s neck, leaned in and breathed into his ear, “What do you want?”

Groaning, Dream closed his eyes and glanced at him. “Better question is what do you want?” He ran his fingers up to George’s shirt hem, threaded his fingers beneath the black fabric to knead at the sensitive spot right above his waistband. “I just want to fuck. You alright with that?”

Laying down on the bed next to him, George mused, “Sounds nice. Even though we’re so boring and vanilla and ‘the basic people’.” Dream laughed lightly, rolled him onto his back. “Heyyy, lemme take off my shoes I’m not an animal.”

“Just a horndog.” Dream cracked, letting him sit up and then reaching down to undo his own shoelaces. “Should we just strip down or do you want to let me do that for you?”

Messing with his button-up, George shrugged and kicked his shoes off, then went to go lock the door. Or at least, he was double-checking—one could never be too careful with this kind of thing. By the time he walked back to the beds, Dream was half-naked already, shirt stripped off to show off all his muscles. “You’re so pretty,” George mused, standing between his boyfriend’s legs to kiss his forehead. “So, if I asked you…could we count as married?”

“Do you _want_ to get married?” Dream asked as George plunked down on the bed beside him again. Shrugging, George looked above him at the ceiling again.

“To you? I mean, might as well. California _does_ allow it, after all.” Smirking, George added, “It means everyone gets to know you fuck me on a regular basis, too.”

“I wouldn’t say I do _that_ , I’d say we sleep together more than that.” Rolling his eyes, Dream reached over and cupped George’s face, kissing him and then pressing him to the bed. “Just the normal thing, right?”

“Like I said…boring.”

“Like you said, _endo_.”

Groaning, George let himself be pushed onto his back, running his hands up and down Dream’s sides as his boyfriend sucked at his neck. “ _Ugh_ , don’t remind me. Either we’re going to have to figure out—no, wait, I have my doctor’s note. Lol.” Dream smiled and started kissing him, leaning over him carefully. “Birth control, whoo.”

“And then when we get you on T, that’ll be nice, too.”

“No chance of babies.” Wrinkling his nose, George laughed a few times. “Not that kids _aren’t_ good, just…not my thing.”

“Not really mine, either, honestly.” Sighing, Dream laughed once and then started fiddling with the buttons of George’s shirt. “Mind if I take this off?” Nodding, George kept his gaze on him. Dream carefully started undoing the buttons, moving slowly just in case George decided that he no longer wanted to do that.

Snorting, George grabbed Dream’s wrists. “Move faster and fuck me, you muffinhead.” Green eyes met his and Dream shook his head before moving faster. _“Dreaaammm_. _Come oooonnnn_.”

“Alright, alright, I’m working on it.” Scoffing, Dream mused, “One day, if we ever do try something, I already know you’re going to be a brat.”

“Hey! No degradation, that’s one thing we do know.” Dream laughed, started kissing him gently as he worked George’s shirt open. Underneath, he just had on a sports bra. Fingers ran around the band at his ribs, and George swallowed as he felt them slip underneath the fabric.

Against his neck, Dream asked, “Mind if I take this off?”

“Please do.” Dream slowly started working it up, using George’s button-up as a way to keep anything…less than what George wanted out of sight. Hands going to George’s jeans, Dream looked at him again.

“Pants off, too?” He asked, tugging gently. Nodding, George helped him move the rest of the way out and then Dream scoffed at the state of his pants. “Oh, we are _definitely_ buying you some actual boxers when we get to Cali. What was your mom’s excuse?”

“They were out at the store.” Humming, Dream started kissing from George’s neck down to his stomach, fingers pulling at the band there. Even from where he was lying on his back, George could see the state of Dream’s own jeans. “Hey, hey. Before I lose my pants, you gotta lose those jeans.”

“Oh, really?”

Grinning, George echoed, “ _Me gusta cuando no estas llevando pantalones.”_ Wheezing, Dream ducked his head against George’s chest.

“You did _not_ just quote _Schlatt_ at me when we’re about to fuck.” George grinned wickedly at him, and Dream had to take a quick moment before getting back in. “Okay, okay, ignoring that—oh, I am _so_ telling Sapnap about that when we meet up if he brings up getting laid—”

“Dream, Sapnap later, your head between my legs right now.” George ordered, and Dream glanced at him after a minute. Sitting up, Dream shrugged and started pulling his jeans off, boxers going with them, and George would have pumped his fist in the air if it weren’t for the fact he was trying to get out of his own pants.

There wasn’t much more than that before they were actually getting at it. Dream stretched him out, because that was just how they did things (endo fucked them both up, in a way, because they had to be careful or George would be left with _crippling_ pain from having a dick in him). It was always nice, though, one of the more quiet moments where (even though he was usually _fine_ ) checking in happened every so often, confirmation that everything was okay and they could move on.

Then, mostly just to be a tease, Dream started licking up and down George’s thighs and avoiding everywhere that he actually _needed to get_ , so that was a whole thing until he _finally_ got the stupid condom on and then just—everything was fine after that.

Holding onto Dream’s waist, George took a few shaky breaths, still getting used to the feeling after a month of nothing but his own fingers. “Everything alright?” Dream asked, shifting around just a little before pressing in a bit more. “Just let me know if it hurts.”

“Right, right.” Taking a breath, George paused when Dream’s lips met his and then he sank into it again.

“Still all good?” Dream asked after a couple minutes, laying half-on top of him and moving about as slowly and gently as he could. (It was still something George wasn’t happy with. On the bright side, it was better than their first time where he’d ended up curled on his side unable to _walk_ for _three days_ because everything hurt for no reason. Hence the birth control—he’d had cramps so bad he’d had to crawl across his carpet just to put shoes on when he was _ten_ , and then they’d gotten worse over time.)

Swallowing, George replied, “Still good.” He stared up at the ceiling, taking a long breath. “We’re free, Dream.” The words were whispered like how Dream had asked him to leave, shyly and like he didn’t believe them. “We’re _free_.”

Kissing his neck, Dream smiled against his skin and mused, “We are. And we don’t have to go back if you don’t want to.”

Staring up at the ceiling, George smiled softly.

<error 404 transition.exe not found.

_Lol I chickened out because I have yet to have sex_

_Everything I know is from fanfiction and health class and I’m American_

<error 404 transition.exe not found>

The next day, they drove from right after breakfast and checking out until lunch, when they stopped at a Cracker Barrel in Flagstaff, Arizona.

“We’re so close.” George whispered, stabbing at his blueberry pancakes before looking up at Dream. Smiling, Dream took another sip of his hot chocolate. “We’re _so close,_ Dream. We—we’re going to see Sapnap. And Bad. And we’re going to meet their friends.” A gasp left him and he smacked himself on the forehead. “Oh my gosh. What if they don’t like gay people?”

Laughing, Dream leaned his chin on his palm and scooped some egg into his mouth with a fork. “That’d be a bit of an issue, seeing as how Bad has a boyfriend and Sapnap is pan. One of their roommates also gives no shits about pronouns.” Some lady at another table turned and looked at them, frowning. Beside her, a teenager stared at them with wide eyes, and George swore he saw something like hope flicker through their gaze. Around their wrist, there were several little bracelets—a green one saying “they/them”, one with the colors of the pan flag, and another that looked to be the trans flag. George smiled, then turned back to his and Dream’s conversation. “So, yeah, I think the gay is okay with them.”

George turned back to his food. “So, how many more miles until we get to—to home?” When he glanced up, he saw Dream was looking to the side.

“Flagstaff to Los Angeles is…four hundred and sixty-five miles. We’re going to have to gas up again, but then I think we might be able to get to…Barstow, probably? We can make it all the way even with just the one tank, but I want to gas up again when we get to Barstow. Sound good?” George nodded, and Dream took a breath before digging back in.

They paid, then left the restaurant to pad out to their house. “I’m still sore from last night.” George complained as he got into the car, stretching his legs forwards as much as he could. “That bed wasn’t doing me any favors.”

“Hmm, well we can share one when we get to Bad and Sapnap’s.” Dream mused, settling into the driver’s seat and pulling out of the parking lot. Turning onto the highway, he took another breath and smiled, reaching across the console to take George’s hand again. “We’re so close, baby. We’re so close.”

“I know.” Running his thumb over Dream’s hand, George kissed the back of his knuckles and smiled at him, “I know.” They reached the road and he turned to look ahead as _My Chemical Romance’s_ “S.I.N.G.” played on the car speakers. Smiling, he looked to the mountains outside and closed his eyes, feeling Dream’s callouses in his fingers and the smooth skin, the difference between the sleek feel and the raised scars under his boyfriend’s wrist. “When we get there, we should do something stupid.”

“Stupid?” George nodded, and Dream huffed out a laugh. “Stupid like what?”

“Stupid like kiss in front of Sapnap and Bad and drop a swear word to see how they react.”

<error 404 transition.exe not found>

They got there to the final, satisfying notes of “Holding Onto You” by twentyonepilots.

“George!” Bad screamed, sprinting down the lawn of the house he and Sapnap and their friends were renting. Grabbing George, he dragged him into a hug and spun him around a few times, holding him tight. “Oh my gosh! You’re here! Like, actually here!”

“Yeah! We made it!” George said, half-hopping up and down. Grabbing his hands, Bad dragged him towards the house as Dream pulled their bags from the middle seat.

“S _AAAAAPPPP!_ ” He screamed, laughing. Sapnap ran over and hugged George tight around the waist, holding him up.

“Hey, that fine ass is mine, you understand! No flirting with him!” Dream shouted, hefting their bags over his shoulder and walking calmly.

“Language!”

“I’ve already gotten threats of castration.” Dream sighed, and Sapnap’s face paled. Wrapping an arm around George’s waist, Dream leaned in and kissed him, and they both waited for a moment before relaxing fully. “We need to do that again. Somewhere else.”

“Ahhh, come on! Come on, you gotta come meet Rat!” Jumping up and down, Bad led them up towards the house, and they walked in. As they did, he kept on talking. “You two get your own room, since you’re dating and everything and Skeppy and I knew that you were going to be doing the do shamelessly. I mean, why not, we’re working on wedding plans.”

“Wait, what?” George asked, and then he was inside the house. It was a nice little two-story thing, with decorations basically everywhere.

“And then Eret and Wilbur have their own rooms as well. No, they’re not dating. Then we have Niki and Minx, and they _do_ share a room but not cause they’re girlfriends or anything they’re sisters and they don’t want to have to deal with anything else.” Bad kept talking, and then his boyfried, Skeppy, emerged with a fluffy white dog. Gasping, Bad let go of George. “Rat!”

Sending him a flat look, Skeppy mused, “Wow, I feel so loved.” As Bad took Rat, he kissed Skeppy on the cheek and then brought Rat over so George could pet her.

Sitting back on his heels, Dream watched his boyfriend with a smile. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. The next morning, as he and George were lying in bed under the covers, naked save for the blankets and well and truly tired from driving and…other activities, he would look at it and find it was just an alert from Tris, that she hoped everything was okay. That she wished him and George well and that she’d be getting the others out soon.

Smiling, Dream would pull George closer, kiss his forehead, and dream about other things in store—maybe, just maybe, a wedding like Bad had said.

(At the very least, there’d be a proposal.)

**Author's Note:**

> lol don’t think this is the end of the story just yet. Anwysy this thing took like a week I’v ebeen working on it since the last one and yeah. Fun stuff. Hope you enhoy. If not…meh.
> 
> Lemme know what you think in the comments. Antis fight me. Anyone else…cool. Hi. Have fun. Go bonkers. lemme know if you wanna sequel.


End file.
